maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me
by kamikazehearts
Summary: elena/elijah. "His breath catches in his throat and he thinks himself ridiculous, being rendered breathless by the simple smile of a twenty-one year old."


**a/n**: gah, this couple. he's probably the only supernatural creature i would _love_ for elena to end up with. this is my first time writing elijah, so i apologize if i don't correctly personify his perfection. swoon. story title comes from _wonderwall_ by oasis—although i prefer the cover by alex goot. just sayin'.

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><p><strong>maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me<strong>

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><p>"Elijah."<p>

He notes her sharp intake of breath with satisfaction and smiles. He looks up from where he's standing outside her apartment and he's before her in a blur of motion.

She gasps again at his proximity, and Elena gulps as her eyes frantically search his face—a face she'd come to believe she would never see again. She's fully aware of how dangerous he is, of how he could probably kill her with a mere flick of his wrist if he wanted to, but she can't bring herself to be afraid.

The man before her isn't like Klaus, like Kol. He's not evil, not looking out to cause as much destruction and mayhem as he may see fit.

He's proven that to her time and time again.

"Elena, so nice to see you again," he says, and his polite voice brings memories she's better off not remembering. "I must admit I was surprised when I learned you were attending Duke, but the solidified shock came when it came to my attention that neither Salvatore resides in the country anymore. Just when I had been growing accustomed to their presence."

"Why are you here?" she inquires, eyebrows furrowed.

He blinks bemusedly, making his way to the opposite end of the hallway. "I'll be around."

_._

_Why would Elijah be here? Why did he track me down? What could he possibly want from me? Klaus is dead...technically, that should render me—being the only human doppelganger—useless. If only—_

A knock on the door interrupts Elena's reverie and the brunette drops the textbook she'd been pretending to read with a sigh. She throws a pleading glance towards her friend, Valerie, grateful when the blonde complies, not before chucking a pillow at Elena's head._  
><em>

"Uh, whoa, erm—yes?"

She rolls her eyes at Valerie's incoherent babbling. Lifting her textbook off the floor, Elena prepares to immerse herself of the why's of Elijah's arrival when—

"Is Elena Gilbert here?"

_Speak of the devil, and he doth appear._

She jumps off the bed, eyes widening marginally when she sees Elijah casually leaning against the door frame of her apartment, and she searches the deepest crevices of her brain for a plausible thing to say.

"Hey."

_Seriously, '_hey_'? So much for originality._

"Would you like to accompany me tonight? I'm new to this city and I'd very much like it if a familiar face were to show me around."

He gives her a timid smile for good measure and she resists the urge to roll her eyes at how easily he can seem like...well, _not_ the centuries-old Original vampire that he most definitely_ is_. Elena turns to Valerie, who's giving her a look that screams _if you don't say yes, I will jump his bones—right here, right now_.

"Uhm, of course. Let me just grab my shoes."

"Uh, who's the hottie?" she whispers in the quietest voice she can muster, and the doppelganger restrains from laughing because she's fully aware that Elijah can still hear them _perfectly_ from his position behind their door.

He can practically hear Elena rolling her eyes. "He's...an old friend."

.

It's November and the night air is biting at her bare arms, making it that much more difficult to enjoy the beauty of the stars above.

Elijah sees her shiver out of his peripheral vision immediately removes his coat and places it over her shoulders. She greatly appreciates the warmth and heavenly masculine smell that the coat offers.

"Where are the Salvatore brothers and the rest of your lot?"

She winces imperceptibly. "Stefan and Damon are in Rio, where they've been for the past four months. Caroline is with them, and she still calls me once a day to keep me updated. My brother is going to college in Colorado. Bonnie Bennett - well, Bonnie _Donovan_ now, lives in Charlotte, so I still get to see her regularly."

"Are you happy?"

Elena giggles, and the melodious sound resonates in his ear. "You mean away from all the supernatural danger that once threatened my life? Unbearably so."

.

"Why did you come back?"

A moment's hesitation as he takes a serene sip of coffee. "I meant what I said Elena. I admire you."

She thinks of the letter he wrote her after Esther's failed ritual, the same one that sits at the bottom of her nightstand's top drawer, the same one she still reads when she lets herself remember Mystic Falls.

"No ulterior motive? No diabolical plan that will threaten any lives?"

He chuckles lowly. "None." Elena's still looking at him with skepticism swimming in her eyes, then, "you have my word."

He watches with interest as relief saturates her features and her posture noticeably relaxes.

"Although what I can't comprehend—for the life of me—is how you haven't told me to leave, assuming that what you said about being in a state of happiness is true, of course."

The corners of her lips turn upwards in a genuine smile that holds compassion and humility—things that were always absent in the smiles of Tatia and Katerina. His breath catches in his throat and he thinks himself ridiculous, being rendered breathless by the simple smile of a twenty-one year old.

Elena shrugs. "It's nice having you around, Elijah."

.

"You once said you would never let yourself care about me."

They're sitting on her bed, Chinese takeout in their laps, and Elena's psychology homework strewn across the mattress, forgotten in favor of the Original vampire.

He's sitting as comfortably as he can given the suit he's wearing, and she has to stifle a laugh at how the raw power he always emanates contrasts heavily against the pale yellow of her comforter.

He tilts his head to the side. "Correct, it wouldn't be the wisest thing of me."

"That caring for the doppelganger was a mistake you wouldn't let yourself make twice," she continues, nervously playing with the ends of her hair. He raises an eyebrow in question and she sighs. "Where do you currently stand on that particular topic?"

He purses his lips before answering. "Despite my best efforts, I've always been known for my foolish tendencies. Actually believing I could go on without caring for you being the prime example."

He grins and doesn't mention that the sound of her rapid heartbeat is music to his ears.

.

"Any new deets? Has anything happened with you and Elijah, yet?"

Elena rolls her eyes, situating the phone between her shoulder and ear. "No. And nothing's going to, Care. It's _Elijah_ we're talking about here. He's—he's a friend. That's _all_."

"Oh yeah? Elena, what are you doing?"

"Cooking dinner," she replies easily.

"Just for you?"

She pauses. "Y-yes."

The sound of her friend's trilling laughter fills her eardrums. "You, my friend, are deliriously obtuse." Elena scowls. It's not fair that Caroline can be in a whole 'nother _continent_, while still remaining more aware of these things than Elena herself. "Live in denial all you want, sweetie. I _know_ you, and if you have to take a deep breath before talking to a guy, it's gonna happen, and it's gonna be _epic_."

"Caroline—"

"Acceptance, 'Lena! Next step after denial. I'll call you tomorrow, love you!"

_._

Elena opens the door to find Elijah, ever handsome in his usual attire, minus the suit jacket. Her eyes trail over his toned arms approvingly before she allows herself to meet his eyes.

She inhales deeply. "Elijah," she breathes.

Her smile disperses once she realizes what she just did.

_Damn you, Caroline Forbes._

_._

Three weeks pass.

He's there every night, joining her for dinner, studying, or late night outings. Her feelings for him grow each time he sends her a smile, or recounts stories of his past to her, or when he asks her to pass the salt.

Everything about him is infectious, and Elena can't help but desire more.

He never stays over.

Sometimes, she considers asking him to. If only to bring this dangerous line that they've been teetering over for the past month and a half to full front and center. But each night, before he leaves, he looks at her with such compassion, such respect, that she's at a loss for words.

So she finds herself saying "Goodnight, Elijah," and "I hope to see you again tomorrow," when she really wants to tell him _please stay the night_ or _I think I could fall in love with you_.

.

She decides enough is enough when he's seated next to her, sipping casually at his wine, lost in a tirade from when he visited Rome in 1748, and she seriously can't listen to him any longer without the urge to rip his clothes off becoming more pronounced.

"So Caroline has a theory," she interrupts.

"Ah, yes. Miss Forbes, one of the few objects of my brother's affection," he acknowledges. "What of her theory?"

Elena scratches the back of her neck anxiously, realizing too late that this little outburst of hers will effectively take them past the point of no return. Make it or break it.

"She thinks that we should be together," she whispers meekly. "She's even predicted the chronology of how this," she motions between them with her hand, "should unravel. First step—denial. Second step—acceptance."

She spares him a glance from beneath her eyelashes, only to look back down once she sees that he's smirking. Her cheeks tinge a deep red, and he nudges her chin upwards with his index finger, beckoning her to meet his eyes.

His thumb strokes her cheek, which only becomes a deeper hue of red beneath his touch. He leans in, so tantalizingly that it reminds her of when she first saw him, how she was unsure as to whether he was there to kiss her or kill her.

Funny, how she hopes it's the former. How that's the only choice now because she knows he'd never to anything to hurt her. How it's so easy to forget that he's one of the most powerful beings roaming the earth because he's never anything but polite and gentle.

His nose skims along her neck, and her eyes roll to the back of her head at the feeling of his skin pressed against hers.

"And the third step?" he whispers.

She pulls back. "Acting on it."

His lips are on hers before she can blink.

.

She wakes on her bed and all she can see, hear, and _breathe_ is _Elijah_.

"I believe we owe Miss Forbes a call of gratitude," he says, leaning down to press his lips on her bare shoulder.

She likes the thought of waking up to his voice.

.

And she does, each and every morning, until her dying day.


End file.
